


A Mother's Love

by Nes22



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Author might be projecting their feelings into this, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, George's mom sucks in this, Homophobia, Hurt GeorgeNotFound, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sorry Not Sorry, This Is Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28173699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nes22/pseuds/Nes22
Summary: George’s mother find out he’s gay and it doesn’t go well for him: he’s kicked out, loses contact with his friends. Watch as the internet and his friends freak out over his online disappearance and Dream struggles with the realization of his feelings for his best friend.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 53
Kudos: 256





	1. Don't let the door hit you on your way out

George barely registered how everything happened in such a short lapse of time, his mum had somehow found out he had a boyfriend in high school from some old facebook pictures from almost 10 years ago and confronted him, George had decided to rip the bandaid off and just come out to her.

He spent half an hour, explaining to his mum that he had known about his sexual orientation for a long time but he didn’t want to tell her and possibly upset her. She had stood in front of him, silent, while he rambled on until he had finally fallen silent too, running out of things to say. 

Suddenly she raised her hand, and without hesitation slapped him across the face, the ring on her index finger harshly hitting the corner of his eye, leaving a sharp pain behind.

George was shell shocked. While he hadn’t expected a very positive reaction – he knew his mum’s family had always been pretty religious and conservative – he wasn’t expecting the hatred and disgust burning fiercely in his mother’s eyes.

“You have half an hour to pack your bags, you are never welcome here again.” Her voice was almost devoid of emotion, only a slight tremble betraying her tightly controlled anger.

“But mum, you... you can’t be serious, we can talk about this” George knew he sounded miserable but he desperately wanted to reason with his mother. She had to be shocked and surely she just needed some time to process things.

“I’m not your mother anymore George. You’re not my son, I didn’t raise my son to be like… that” she gestured to him, seemingly unable to pronounce the simple word “gay”.

George’s eyes filled with tears, he took a step back away from his mother and the disgust he could feel in her gaze.

“You have 30 minutes George, not one more.”

George could tell she considered herself generous to even give him that much, so he turned around and hurried back to his bedroom to pack as much of his belongings as he could in such a short lapse of time.

He pulled all of his clothes from his wardrobe and drawers, piling them in an old suitcase he had under his bed. Then made sure to get his passport and other important documents into a backpack, not knowing what his mother would do if she stumbled upon them.

His gaze lingered on the picture of his family on his bedside table, a simple portrait of him, his mom and dad a long time ago, before his dad had left, when times were simpler and everyone was happy. He laid the frame face down, the happy smiles haunting him.

He turned towards his desk, he knew he couldn’t take his set up with him, there was no way he would be able to pack it or carry it around with him. He swiped the MCC coin sitting on his desk and some other small trinkets that reminded him of various good memories and friends, tossing them into the open suitcase on his bed.

A small meow interrupted him, his grey cat was rubbing against his legs, wanting his attention. George knew he didn’t have much time but he still took the small feline into his arms, the loud purrs of his animal almost sending him into a full blown breakdown. But he held back his tears and gently deposited his cat on his bed where he knew he liked to nap when George was streaming or hanging out with friends online. 

He closed the suitcase, casting one last regretful look towards his computer, he felt bad about leaving it behind, especially since Dream bought it for him, but he didn’t exactly have a choice. At least his mother didn’t know his password and wouldn’t be able to snoop around when he was gone.

He took out his phone, he should probably explain his situation briefly to people before just disappearing from Twitch and Twitter suddenly. He hesitated for a second before deciding that Twitter was probably the best place to announce this, he typed out a quick tweet that read _‘Serious stuff happened IRL, won’t be able to stream or be online for a while’_ and then sent a second one _‘Sorry :[‘_

That would probably be good enough, right?

He ignored the buzzing of his phone a few minutes after he posted the tweet, it was probably friends checking up on him and as much as he appreciated it he didn’t have the time to reply to anyone right now.

Dragging his suitcase behind him, backpack standing securely on top of it, he exited his bedroom back into the living room where his mother was standing, nursing a hot cup of tea.

As soon as she saw him she put the cup down and approached him, causing George to take an involuntary step back, back hitting the wall of the living room.

“I want you to delete my number George, I don’t want you thinking you can contact me”, she cupped the side of his face, almost tenderly, thumb swiping the corner of his brow where her ring had collided with his face leaving a small trail of blood.

George pushed her away, feeling anger fill him. “This is fucking ridiculous, _you’re_ being fucking ridiculous mum!”

As soon as the words left his mouth George knew he had crossed a line. His mother reached into his pocket, taking his phone into her hand and promptly smashed it on the floor, the screen shattering as soon as it came in contact with the hardwood floor.

George could only stare at the remains of his phone, panic filling him, how was he meant to do anything without a phone now?

He bent down, picking up the dead device, putting it into the pocket of his jacket before he dragged his suitcase away from his mother, towards the front door of thei-… her flat.

He didn’t bother looking back before he crossed the door and let it slam shut behind him, barely hearing his mother mutter something about him being rude.

He went all the way to the main high street near his ex-home, looking for a cab since he couldn’t order an Uber with his phone. He eventually found one, settling in the back with a sigh after asking the driver to take him to the nearest hotel, a pretty cheap 2 stars hotel close to a busy road only a 15 minutes drive away.

George was glad he had the common sense to take his credit card with him, allowing him to pay for a week's stay upfront when he arrived at the small hotel. No one questioned him but the woman working at the front desk looked at the mark his mother’s had left on his face curiously, and he could tell she was trying very hard to not ask him what happened. She handed him his key with a professional smile and wished him a good stay, pointing him towards the lifts. 

George collected his belongings and made his way to his room. Letting the door softly close shut behind him, he let go of his suitcase and made his way to the double bed, standing in the middle of the room, and left himself collapse on top of it, letting the full weight of the situation hit him.

He was _homeless_.

A sob tore through his throat and he let the tears flow, hiccuping pitifully by himself in his hotel bedroom.

He had never felt so alone in his entire life before.

What was he going to tell his friends? 

Where was he going to live?

He felt so pathetic, so _weak_.

Things were going so well for his career, his friendships, why couldn’t things ever stay good for him?

_Am I cursed? To be unloved? To be alone?_

He buried his head in his pillows, still fully dressed, jacket heavy on his shoulders, crying for what felt like hours before finally letting sleep take him away.

He didn’t dream that night.


	2. Erasing myself from the narrative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's depression time.
> 
> George disappears for a week?

The sun filtered through the curtains George hadn’t bothered to fully close before collapsing into bed the day prior, the soft warmth of the mid-morning sunshine hitting the corner of his face.

It was a perfectly sunny day, a rare sight for December in the UK, but the half-asleep young man tugged on the curtains forcefully, effectively shutting off the stream of light.

He didn’t want to see the sun, or the smiles of happy families strolling outside, enjoying the nice weather together.

He just wanted to sleep forever, or at least get away from the harshness of the real world a bit longer.

After a couple of minutes he realized he was fighting a lost battle, he was far too awake and uncomfortable, his jacket and jeans hot and heavy on his clammy skin, to go back to sleep. Shifting around he removed most of his clothes and patted the bed next to him mindlessly; unconsciously looking for his phone, a useless endeavour since he knew the shattered screen rendered the whole thing unusable.

He let out a sigh and let himself drop back face first on the pillow.

Wasn’t he supposed to be crying right now?

He scoffed at the thought. Strangely he didn’t feel sad, but rather calm. No, in fact he felt nothing, empty.

_The eye of the storm?_

He knew he was on the verge of what was probably going to be a massive break down, anger, pain, betrayal, all simmering deep bellow the surface of his mind, waiting to erupt all at once.

But not right now.

He wasn’t sure he had the strength to face his emotions yet, so he remained empty, carefully locking away the twisted, hurt part of himself to deal with later.

He addressed a silent apology to his future self and turned towards the crappy TV in the corner of his room. He located the remote pretty quickly and after some fumbling with the two batteries that kept falling out, he managed to turn it on. He immediately skipped the news channels, politics frankly bored him, and – perhaps a little selfishly – he didn’t want to deal with the problems of other people today. WW3 could start and he wasn’t sure he would be able to bring himself to care at the moment. He wanted some form of brainless entertainment, something to drown out his thoughts, and he finally found it in the form of the Cartoon Network channel currently doing a nostalgic rerun of some shows he used to watch when he was a kid.

_Perfect._

He got back under the covers of his bed and let himself be taken back to his childhood, memories of Sunday mornings spent in front of the TV, a bowl of cereal precariously balanced on his laps. Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought and focused back on the screen.

Hours passed and only the growling of his empty stomach and the dryness in his mouth reminded him he hadn’t eaten or drank anything since he… left.

_Yeah “left”, more like since he got kicked o…_

_Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it._ He chanted in his head while going through the motion of opening his suitcase and getting some clothes out.

He decided he would change and head to the closest store to buy himself some cup noodles, he had spotted a kettle near the entrance of his room and he didn’t feel like ordering a real substantial meal, a nagging voice in the back of his head that sounded strangely like his mother telling him he didn’t deserve it anyways. He had done nothing but mope around in bed all day.

The bathroom lights blinded him for a second and he grimaced when he caught his reflection in the large mirror above the sink. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, his hair a mess and the corner of his eye – that had been steadily throbbing the whole afternoon and that he had dutifully ignored – now sported a large black-ish bruise, with a cut in the center.

He lightly touched it and hissed at the pain that immediately flared beneath his fingertip, flakes of dried blood rubbing off his skin. He should probably buy some antiseptic too, the cut was somewhat shallow but it still drew blood and he hadn’t exactly cleaned it or paid any attention to it yesterday.

He got dressed quickly, detangling his hair with his finger and trying to brush it to the side, to somewhat cover the bruise but his hair was way too short to provide any kind of real coverage. Rummaging through his bags he found a black beanie he barely ever used and put it on, tugging it down until it covered most of the injury. He pulled the hood of his blue hoodie on top of it and rearranged it until he was satisfied with his appearance.

At least now he didn’t look like he picked a fight (and lost) at some random pub the day before.

The room key was cool in his hand as he gripped it tightly, feeling naked without his phone and his home keys. He nodded at the woman at the front desk, distantly noting it was the same one as the day before and exited the hotel into the cool winter night. He had no idea where to go, and he didn’t have a phone to check the directions to the nearest supermarket, but this was Brighton, not some random village, he was bound to find a Tesco store less than a 10 min walk away. He picked a random direction and sure enough, after a couple minutes stumbled into a medium sized supermarket.

Strolling the aisles he grabbed a couple of snacks and a dozen cup noodles, barely registering the flavors he picked, any would do. God he probably seemed like a university student with a terrible diet to anyone looking right now. He shrugged off the momentary embarrassment and headed to the self-checkout tills.

The walk back to the hotel was uneventful, he still felt somewhat dazed, not allowing himself to think about anything of substance, too scared to deal with his new reality yet. Every time something reminded him of his mother or even his online life he would start listing everything he could see around him or random facts he knew, effectively drowning his thoughts in inane chatter.

* * *

Soon enough days blurred together until a week had past, George spent most of his time watching TV or sitting on the floor near the window overlooking the street staring at strangers, trying to imagine their life stories. He felt like he saw everything in that week of people-watching: couples fighting, mothers screaming at their children, teenagers crying in the street, but also old couple holding hands, eyes twinkling with love and happiness, fathers carrying their kids on their back, head thrown back in laughter, shy first kisses between teenagers on dates.

He felt content simply observing life from afar, he never realized how easy it was to take himself out of the narrative, he could just be no one if he wanted to, and as terrifying as that thought was, it was also comforting.

No one missed him.

He let his forehead rest on the cool window, his breath fogging up the glass panel.

But did he miss no one?

He thought of good morning texts he got at 2pm from Dream, late night discussions with Sapnap, facetime calls with Quackity, and so many more. He missed his friends fiercely, but facing them meant telling them what happened, and he was terrified of that.

What if they abandoned him too?

He didn’t think he could bear it if he saw his mother’s disgust filled gaze in their eyes too, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to lie to them, especially Dream. The younger man always knew when George tried to bullshit something to avoid talking about serious issues, managing to drag him into deep talks when George was almost an expert at subtly avoiding them with other people.

George hated himself for being such a coward, he knew deep down he couldn’t spend his life running away, he only had one paid day left at the hotel and then he had to make a decision: leave or stay? And even if he stayed he knew it was a temporary arrangement, he still had to find a new place to live, buy a PC, start streaming again, money was bound to run out eventually, even if he had always been very frugal with his earnings and had some money saved up.

George took a deep breath, he would call his friends, but his phone needed fixing first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey, it's me :)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this little chapter, I'm thinking about making the next chapter from Dream's POV but I don't really know if I should or if I should keep it 100% George-centric
> 
> also yes, Hamilton reference, I'm deeply sorry, that musical still lives in my head rent-free years after it came out
> 
> Comments and kudos mean the world to me so if you leave one ily :D


	3. It's quiet uptown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dream pov, woohoo boys

George didn’t know that across the Atlantic Ocean, Dream was pacing holes in his bedroom carpet, compulsively checking his phone every couple of minutes, worried about the silence of his best friend after the worrying tweet the British man had sent out a little bit over a day before. 

It wasn’t like George to go radio silence like this, especially with Dream, George always took the time to send him a text, even when he was busy, even when serious stuff happened, _especially_ when serious stuff happened. 

Dream dragged his hand across his face, he had barely managed to sleep, anxious George would text or call him and he wouldn’t be there to answer him. But his worries were unfounded, the man hadn’t shown a single sign of life all night and day. 

Dream opened discord, for the third time of the day, contemplating sending a message in the general chat of the SMP discord server asking people to tell him if they had heard anything from George. 

_Was it too clingy?_

He didn’t want to seem like a control freak over his friend not answering him for 24 hours, but this was so out of character for George he couldn’t help the cold fear gripping him. 

He closed discord and called Sapnap instead, he knew the younger man didn’t have any news for him, but he needed someone to share his uneasiness with or he feared he would do something stupid, like book a one way plane ticket to the UK to go yell at George to answer his damn phone. 

* * *

Every day of the following week Dream checked his phone every couple of minutes, carrying it around everywhere with him, his worries increasing with each passing day. Why couldn’t George just call him? He had sent a dozen texts to the man on every platform he knew: SMS, discord, Team Speak, even Twitter and Instagram DMs. At one point he even thought about sending him a letter but decided against it when he realized how long it would take for the letter to go all the way to the UK. 

He had bitten the bullet after the 2nd day and had sent a message to the SMP discord chat, stating _‘Please contact me if you hear anything from George’_ , simple and straight to the point. Everyone had replied with some variations of _‘Sure’_ and _‘Ok’_ but no one had received any updates. Quackity had even called him after a couple of days, the usually upbeat man had sounded concerned, and told Dream that he and George had been texting or calling every other day for the past couple of weeks and that he was genuinely worried about George’s wellbeing. Dream had immediately quashed the slight jealousy that arose like each time he was reminded of the closeness and chemistry between Quackity and George. 

_He’s_ **_my_ ** _best friend._

But he had bitten back the childish thought and reassured Quackity he would tell him as soon as George decided to reappear. 

Dream couldn’t ignore the hole George’s absence left in his life. While he loved all of his friends greatly, what he and George had was special, something he treasured dearly, a sort of mutual understanding, they could talk about anything for hours or even sit in a comfortable silence on call together while sending each other stupid memes. 

He hated the fact that he had no way to contact George other than his phone number and discord and he had sworn to himself that as soon as George resurfaced he would ask for his mother’s phone number, just to make sure he could have someone to call if he went MIA again. 

He felt so powerless. 

What if George hated him? Or worse what if he was dead and Dream didn’t even know? 

No, that was a stupid thought, George himself said he wouldn’t be able to be online for a while, he just needed to give him space and be there for him when the older man would eventually come back. 

“Dream you’re there?” 

The voice of Sapnap startled him, he almost forgot he was on the SMP server with Karl and Sapnap, the latter streaming after their fans had practically begged them for content after George vanished. 

“Yeah sorry, I was just zoning out.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Sapnap’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle, he knew everyone was affected by George’s silence and the lack of answers to their questions.

“Oh thanks for the dono, no I’m sorry, as I’ve said before we don’t know anything more than you guys do about George, but don’t worry too much, I’m sure he’ll be back soon enough, that idiot can’t live without us for too long.”

Dream knew that the other man was only responding to a donation he got on his live but he couldn’t help but think the words were directed at him too. Sapnap had been a constant comforting presence this past week, trying to calm Dream down when his worries got the best of him. 

Dream cleared his throat, focusing back on the house Sapnap was trying to build, ignoring how it reminded him of George building his little mushroom house a couple weeks prior. 

“I feel like it could look nicer if you…” Dream stopped in the middle of his sentence. 

“Dream?” Sapnap asked, surprised by the sudden silence of his friend. 

“Oh my god” Dream’s headset clattered on his desk, leaving the two other men in the call confused. 

Dream’s phone was ringing, and the one calling was the only person he had been hoping to hear from all week. He picked up the phone, hands shaking with barely contained excitement and relief. 

“George? Hello?” 

He vaguely heard shouts of surprise coming from his forgotten headset on his desk, but he didn’t care enough to mute himself so he stood up, leaving the room with his phone, letting the door of his office loudly close shut behind him. 

“Hey Dream.” 

Dream, who was leaning on the wall outside of his office, let himself slide down the wall until he was seated on the floor, barely registering the feeling of the cool tiles of his hallway under him. 

“George… I… Where the fuck did you go you absolute idiot?” 

He grimaced, that was not what he had planned to say.

“Sorry, sorry, listen I was _so_ worried, we were all worried, are you okay?” 

George weakly chuckled. 

“No that was deserved for once, I’m sorry Dream. My phone was broken and… uh… I don’t really have my PC anymore, or anything really.”

To say that Dream was confused would be an understatement, did George get robbed or something? 

“What? What do you mean?”

“Listen Dream, it-it’s complicated.”

“George I’ve been waiting all week to hear from you, believe me I definitely have the time to hear about what happened, no matter how long it takes.” 

The silence stretched between them, but Dream could hear George’s breathing, seemingly deep in thoughts on the other end of the line. The blonde decided he would ask simple questions to get the other one to open up until he could get the answers he wanted. 

“George? Are you at home right now?” 

George breath hitched, and he chuckled wetly, Dream immediately sat up, was George crying? 

“George?” he said gently.

The man sniffled weakly.

“Sorry, wrong thing to say I guess, no, I’m not at… uh… home, I’m at some shitty hotel.” 

Dream could almost imagine the older man angrily rubbing away the tears from his eyes, George hated showing emotions, and especially hated crying in front of others, which is why he knew he needed to thread really carefully to avoid George hanging up on him to go cry more privately. 

“In Brighton?” 

The Brit hummed “Yeah.” 

“And are you okay?” 

“Honestly?” 

“Preferably yeah” Dream huffed. 

“No, I’m not okay.”

The hurt laced in George’s brief answers sent a pang of worry to Dream’s heart. For the young man to admit it so easily he must be feeling really bad. Dream twisted and untwisted the string of his hoodie around his finger anxiously. 

“I’m sorry, can you tell me a little bit about what happened?” 

“I-“ a sob tore through George’s throat “Sorry, it’s stupid” he paused “well no, it’s not stupid.” 

Dream interrupted him “George, if it’s affecting you this much it’s most definitely not stupid.” 

He could hear the older man trying to get his breathing back under control, swallowing back his tears. 

“I got kicked out and-” 

Dream’s brain felt like it suddenly blue screened like his computer on a hot Floridian summer day. 

“What do you mea-?” 

“No listen, Dream, I don’t want to say it twice, I don’t think I can, so can-can you please just listen until I’m done?” 

Dream nodded, forgetting for a second George couldn’t see him. 

“Of course, sorry” 

George took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. 

“I’m gay, my mom found out, she didn’t like it” the tone of his voice made it clear it was much more serious than her not _liking_ it. 

“She practically disowned me… well no, literally disowned me, gave me 30min to gather my stuff and then broke my phone.” 

George laughed, but nothing like his usual giddy giggles that would never fail to bring a smile to Dream’s face, this laugh was broken, full of suffering. 

“And now I’ve been sitting in this hotel room, eating instant ramen and wallowing in self-pity.”

“Well fuck” Dream couldn’t help but swear, shock at George’s coming out and anger towards his mother swirling in him. 

“Fuck indeed” George said bitterly. 

“George... I’m so _so_ sorry, you didn’t deserve to go through this, I love you, you know that right? No matter what, I’ll always be there for you” Dream tried to insert as much sincerity as he could into his voice, he needed George to understand how much he cared for him. 

George sniffled quietly “Thanks Dream, that means a lot actually.” 

Dream’s thoughts were going a hundred miles a minute and he suddenly got either the smartest or the dumbest idea of the month. 

What if George came to the US with him? 

They’ve been talking about seeing each other and eventually moving in together for forever now, and sure this was a bit more rushed than expected but George didn’t seem like he had anything planned really in terms of living accommodation, and him coming to the US would just be killing two birds with one stone right? 

“Dream I can hear you thinking from all the way here, what’s going on in that big brain of yours?” George still sounded slightly choked up but he was much more composed than a few minutes prior. 

“Huh, do you have a lot of stuff with you?” 

“Like bags? I have a suitcase and a backpack Dream, it’s not like I had a lot of time to pack.” 

Dream winced, that had probably come across as a bit insensitive. 

“Then what if you just came to the US?” 

“What?” George sounded almost breathless, like the idea itself had knocked the wind out of him. 

“We’ve been talking about seeing each other pretty much every other week for months now, what if you came to stay at my house for a while? So you can take some time to relax and figure things out without having to stay in some random motel.” 

“It’s not a motel Dream” George protested weakly.

“Oh come on George, you know what I mean. So?” 

“I- fuck, yeah, okay, I’ll do it.” 

Dream couldn’t help the whoop of joy that escaped him, he stood up, suddenly full of manic energy. 

“I’ll book you a plane ticket as soon as possible, pack your bags Georgy.”

“Jesus I think you might be genuinely crazy… actually, maybe we both are” despite his teasing tone George’s voice was full of barely contained excitement, sadness momentarily forgotten. 

A large grin took over Dream’s face, heart beating wildly in his chest. 

_This was really happening._

“Okay, George, I love you, I’ll go book the ticket now, talk to you soon?” 

“Of course, yeah.”

“Okay okay, I love you!” 

Dream hung up, taking a second to jump up and down in his hallway before sobering up, remembering that despite the joy of having his friend over, the circumstances were undoubtedly not ideal, the young man went through something pretty traumatic. 

He sighed, he couldn’t believe George’s mom was like that, _homophobic_. Actually he could barely believe George was gay, despite all the time he had previously joked about it before, he hadn’t ever considered it seriously. 

He shook his head, thinking about this could wait, he needed to book George’s plane ticket, tidy up his apartment, prepare the guest bedroom, go grocery shopping-

The buzzing of his phone interrupted his mental listing of all the things he needed to do. He had received a text from Sapnap: _‘What the fuck Dream?????? You just ditched us and didn’t give us any news, what’s up with George? Is he alright?”_

He suddenly remembered he was on Sapnap’s stream when he got George’s call, and he hadn’t bothered to leave the call or anything before rushing out. Everyone was probably freaking out about it, from the chat to Karl and Sapnap themselves.

He walked back inside his office, he could already see the chat of the live zooming fast on his second monitor, hundreds of messages being written and sent every second, from curious and worried fans. 

He picked up his headset, putting it back on. 

“Dream?”

That was Sapnap’s voice, he sounded impatient and worried at the same time, the man had probably been waiting for him to come back, and having to deal with chat and donos going crazy about George once again surely didn’t help his impatience 

“Sorry guys, George is fine, I have to go though, talk to you later, love you chat.”

He hung up, he knew that was definitely rude, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, he would call Sapnap later, after he got the plane tickets.

George was coming to America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had genuinely not planned for George to go to the US yet but eh it is what it is, i guess???
> 
> anywayss, thanks for reading!
> 
> leave a comment please? they make me really happy :D

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, leave a comment if you want, it would be very lovely to have some feedback from people :))
> 
> nes#6661 if you wanna come yell at me about dnf or georgebur, or anything else really


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